


and if it's real enough, and honest enough

by braille_upon_my_skin



Category: We Are Your Friends (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 22:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15543204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braille_upon_my_skin/pseuds/braille_upon_my_skin
Summary: Sophie's words from the voicemail Cole played and replayed dozens, hundreds of times, whisper through Cole's mind, and, when James turns toward the console, encourages Cole to play a set with him, grin never wavering, eyes sparking with a zest Cole can't imagine that anyone has seen from the famous James Reed inyears, Cole thinks,Yeah.





	and if it's real enough, and honest enough

 

 

\- -

 

After the success of his SummerFest performance, Cole is sweaty, breathless, and emotionally overwhelmed, still trembling from the surge of pure adrenaline and _feeling_ that charged his showcase.

Maybe that's why, when a grinning James takes him into a congratulatory hug, whispers against his ear that he'll _be damned_ , that Cole  _actually did it_ , that Cole _won over all of the beating hearts_ , Cole's breath hitches for just a moment. A fraction of a moment. And, his pulse spikes, heart revitalized and thumping with energy, pumping to a new and strangely familiar beat.

As James pulls back, cupping Cole's face in his rough hands, blue eyes searing into Cole's own, it's more intense than what Cole felt with Sophie that night in Vegas; staring down into dark eyes, riding the high of the Ecstasy that she slipped him, body melding into hers.

Cole wonders in that instant just _why_ it was James he sought out after Squirrel died. Why he went to James for comfort, and not Sophie, Mason, or even Ollie. Why it was the sad, washed-up, arrogant drunk with a crooked grin who kicked Cole's ass for sleeping with his girlfriend that Cole wanted pressed against him, arm slung around his shoulders, whatever liquor the man chose to pour down his throat swirling around in his glass as he, looking every bit as shitty as Cole felt, plunked down beside Cole and chose to impart some more weirdly sage advice on him. 

_"I love it here."_

Sophie's words from the voicemail Cole played and replayed dozens, hundreds of times, whisper through Cole's mind, and, when James turns toward the console, encourages Cole to play a set with him, grin never wavering, eyes sparking with a zest Cole can't imagine that anyone has seen from the famous James Reed in _years_ , Cole thinks, _Yeah_.

_Yeah_ , as he and James seem unable to keep their hands off of each other. As they beam and nudge one another like complete losers and dumbasses, and share glances that seem bizarrely intimate.

Or, maybe not so bizarrely.

Because, Cole goes back to James's house, bigger than any house Cole and anyone else who hailed from the Valley ever dreamed of owning, and James presses him against the counter of his mini bar, lips rough against Cole's, hairs of his beard scraping Cole's skin, tongue thick as it slips past Cole's lips that part obediently, eagerly, _gladly_ , to admit it.

_Homeless puppy_ , James says, voice low, breath hot on Cole's temple, _how do you like your new home?_

Cole kisses him hungrily, heartbeat an excitedly thumping bass-line, capturing James's lower lip between his teeth. He breaks off and touches the tip of his nose to James's. With a grin, he says, _I love it here._

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It took me three years to finally write something for this pairing. 
> 
> Good gracious, I am slower than molasses.


End file.
